


Dropping Eaves

by monaboyd_archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-02
Updated: 2005-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:38:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monaboyd_archivist/pseuds/monaboyd_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom overhears what Billy really wants.  Warning for mild, implied D/s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dropping Eaves

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the Monaboyd.net Archive, which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years . To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile.  
> \--  
> Written off a bunny hyacinth_sky747 requested here, and if you haven't read the much better porn App1e Pi wrote in response to it, you should. All similarities pretty much due to the parameters of the request.
> 
> Except Viggo. That part I don't get. o.O
> 
> Much thanks and love as always to my irreplaceable beta and friend dani_grl4, who made this better than it was. As always. :)

The music was blaring when Dom let himself in the back door – something of Henry’s, from the sounds of it, and sure enough, Viggo’s son appeared on the stairs as Dom was kicking off his winter boots and hanging up his anorak.

“Hey Dom! Thought you weren’t going to make it? Dad and Billy are in the living room, watching TV.” The overgrown 11-year-old reached past him and grabbed a snack cake from a hiding place behind the toaster, shooting Dom a sly look. “Shh, don’t tell Dad, okay?”

“Not a word,” Dom grinned conspiratorially, rubbing his hands together to get feeling back into them.

“Thanks, man.” Henry grabbed a remote off the kitchen table and hit a button, and the music died, leaving the house suddenly quiet except for the low murmur of the TV down the hall, and the sound of the wind outside. Belatedly, Dom noticed the sweet smell of weed hanging heavily in the air.

“I’m going to Greg’s for dinner, Dad,” Henry yelled, pulling on a jacket and pair of woolen mittens.

“Don’t forget your boots,” came the reply, and sure enough, the boy stopped halfway to the door, scowling half-heartedly, and kicked off his trainers, reaching for a pair of ancient rubber boots. “And no more Twinkies, that shit’s bad for you.”

“Yes, Dad,” he sighed loudly, pocketing his snack nonetheless. “See you tonight.” Henry noticed Dom’s amused smile and gave him the finger and a friendly grin as he hurried out the door.

Dom laughed quietly, and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator before padding down the hall toward the living room, his socks nearly silent on the carpeted floor. A few feet from the doorway, he heard Viggo say his name, and stopped, feeling mischievous.

“Too bad Dom couldn’t make it. What did they want him to do, anyway?” Viggo inhaled deliberately, and Dom thought he could almost hear the joint burn brighter.

“Fat-suit pickups. On a Sunday, even.” Billy sounded sympathetic, and Dom tried to ignore the warm little glow that had been plaguing him lately, whenever his mate did something nice…or cute…or so fucking sexy it made Dom hard as a bloody rock. _Shit._ He leaned quietly against the wall, listening.

“Maybe they won’t take long, and he’ll be over later. We should save him a joint.”

“Eh.” Dom could practically _see_ Billy shrug. “I could use a break from him right about now, anyway.” Dom stiffened, confused, and more than a little hurt, much as he tried not to be.

“Why’s that? You two seem to be getting along as well as ever.”

“Yeah, well. That’s just the point. You know how I feel about Dom.”

Dom blinked. That sounded sort of serious. _No, please elaborate._

Viggo hummed in agreement, as Billy took a steady hit and then let it out after a long moment.

 

“I mean, I’m around him all the bloody time. And he’s so fucking oblivious. It’s not like I can say ‘Hey mate, nice wave you caught there. No, that’s alright, I’m just going to lay here on my belly until this giant fucking hard-on goes down, thanks. Oh and by the way, you wouldn’t mind if I shagged your brains out right here in the sand in front of everyone? Because if you come any closer that’s what’s going to happen…’” Billy sighed quietly, and Dom reeled mentally, feeling breathless and elated.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“The worst? Dom getting disgusted, angry, walking away. Me losing the best friend I ever had, that’s all.” He sounded so dejected that Dom wanted nothing more than to walk into the room and grab him and hug him until he begged for mercy, and then snog him until he just plain begged…Dom swallowed and adjusted his jeans.

“That would be rough,” Viggo agreed sympathetically. “But what’s the _best_ that could happen?”

“The best? Well, we’d shag like bunnies, wouldn’t we.” Billy sounded like he was smiling, and even though his words were probably half in jest, the fact that they were coming from Billy’s mouth – that pretty little mouth, the most perfect Dom had ever seen, and God, he’d had fantasies about that – made his own mouth go dry, and his jeans get so tight he could feel his pulse against the back of the zip, a sharp pleasure-pain that made him bite his lip, hard.

But Billy wasn’t finished. His voice had taken on that relaxed, sexy tone that usually came out when he was stoned and horny (another set of fantasies there, Dom admitted to himself) – Billy’d always been weird like that, the talkiest stoned bastard Dom had ever known, but this was the first time Dom had ever heard him talk about _him_ like that. He shuddered with pleasure as Billy continued.

“I’d drag him down to the sand with me and kiss him hard until his pretty lips were swollen and red, until he was panting for air and rubbing up against me, all frantic and moaning. I’d bite that bottom lip, make him cry out and writhe underneath me, hold him down while I licked the blood away, feel how hard he was – cup his prick, squeeze it right there where anyone could see, especially through his wetsuit, and know what I doing, what was _going_ to do to him. Make him whimper and plead just a little, try to rub off on my hand, but I wouldn’t let him.

“I’d pull him up then, stand him up and snog him hard and long, knowing everyone was watching us, bruise his lips and fuck his mouth with my tongue until he was desperate for it, needing it, trying to suck it back into his mouth…and then I’d stop, just let him pant and mewl for me to kiss him again, but I wouldn’t. I’d just smile and take him by the wrist, lead him back to the car. Maybe if he begged really prettily, I’d let him suck me off there in the car park, tilt back the steering wheel and let him take my dick out and lick it with that long, wet, wicked tongue of his. Push my thick cock between those pouty lips, watch his cheeks hollow around it, feel him suck like he needs it. Let him tongue the fat head like one of his lollies – fuck, he’d be good at that, sucking it hard and flicking it, stroking it, lapping at it – and looking up at me the entire time, seeing me watching him. Let him lick the slit, because I’d have to be dripping for it by then, rub it all over his tongue, let him get a good taste. Then I’d slide my hand into his hair and push his head down, all the way down, make him take me deep down his throat, feel him so wet and tight and hot around my cock…jesus, you just know he could deep throat like a pro.”

Billy’s voice had got a little breathy, but he sounded better off than Dom felt. Dom was squeezing his cock so tight through his jeans that he was about to lose circulation. Hearing Billy talk about him, talk about taking control of him, fucking him, doing things to him that he could barely admitted to himself that he wanted – and god, did he want them…he had to risk it. He grasped the tab of his zip and slipped it down, one metallic tooth at a time, until his aching hard-on sprang free. Shuddering, he wrapped a long-fingered hand around his tight, swollen flesh, barely containing a moan of relief at the contact.

Billy was talking again. “I’d make him swallow around me, just suck and swallow and tongue me, his lips wrapped tight around the base of my cock, not even moving his head, until I couldn’t take it anymore, then I’d thrust up fast, shoot down his throat, so long and hard I’d see fucking stars. Fuck, it’d be so hot, watching him swallow my cum, watching him lick off the drops I’d smear across his lips…god, yeah, I wanna see that. Then I’d let him lick me clean, and zip me carefully back up so I could drive him home, so we could have some real fun.”

“Oh?” Viggo’s voice sounded both amused and turned on. “Do you mind?” he asked.

Dom wondered what he was talking about until Billy replied, “Go ahead. Think I might, as well.” And then the sound of two zippers being lowered, and clothes being pushed aside, and christ, but he had to bite back a groan at the thought of them both wanking to Billy’s fantasies. Of _him_.

His own hand squeezed and tugged harder at his foreskin, the friction so sweet on his thick, rigid cock that he had to set his beer on the carpet so that he could tug his jeans a little lower, and work his balls and taint with his other hand, shivering at feel of beer-chilled skin touching his hypersensitive flesh. There was something so wrong about this, so dirty and sordid and…hot as all fucking hell, he thought, pressing hard behind his balls, his eyes rolling back in his head as he shuddered hard, and fought back a whimper that would give him away.

Taking a stuttering breath, he realised that Billy had continued. “I’d drive slowly, make him clutch the headrest with both hands so he couldn’t wank, so he just had to sit there and bear it, while I watched him hump the air and beg me to touch him. If I was feeling nice, I might stroke his thigh, squeeze a little, watch him squirm.

“I’d make him keep both hands on the headrest, watch his knuckles go white as he squeezed it, shifting in his seat, not getting any relief, even after I stopped the car. I’d make him keep his hands there while I went around the outside and let him out, finally. I’d kiss him then, hard and hungry, thrust my tongue into his mouth and taste myself there, listen to him whimper and buck against me, his hands trying to sneak down to my cock, and I’d be hard again, so fucking hard and horny just like I am now, because how could you not be, with Dom whimpering and squirming and begging for it - _fuck_.” Billy’s breath hitched, and Dom shook, his back arching as he worked his prick faster, harder, his heart racing, and his pulse thumping against his palm through the hot, straining head of his cock.

“I’d make him give me his hands, though, and I’d lead him up to my flat, get him inside, and then as soon as the door closed, I’d have him shoved hard against it, my thigh between his legs, his wrists held tight to the wood above his head with one hand while the other unzipped him, took out that big, hard cock of his – you’ve seen it, you know what it’s like. Makes me hungry just thinking about it, but I don’t think I’d let him have that, wouldn’t let him have my mouth, not right away. He’d have to earn that.” Billy’s grin was hard and hot and entirely audible as Dom jerked frantically, driving his cock into his tight fist, so close he could taste it. He was sure they must be able to hear his harsh breaths by now.

“I’d grab him tight in my hand, stroke him hard, just once or twice, make sure he was primed and ready for it. Maybe squeeze a few drops out and let him lick them off my fingers…jesus, even his hot little mouth sucking off my fingers is so fucking pretty.” Billy’s voice was rough now, accented by the slap of his hand sliding urgently up and down his cock. Dom trembled, feeling his orgasm tease at his fingertips. _Almost there_ …

“I’d push him into the center of the room – you know what my kitchen table looks like, yeah? Perfect height. I’d have to bend him over that – been wanting to that since he helped me move it in – I’d shove down his wetsuit, and fuck, just to see him spread open in front of me…almost more than I can fucking take. I’d push my fingers back into his mouth, and just _feel_ him sucking them, christ…” Billy’s voice broke, and then he continued. “I’d make him lick them, get them wet and slippery for me, and then I’d take them out, listen to him whimper because he loves sucking, you know how he is with those fucking lollies…I’d let him whimper as I stroked my cock, as I spread him open, one hand on his back, holding him flat on the table, the other slick and teasing, circling, pushing one finger in, feeling him contract around me, so hot and tight and fucking incredible…two fingers, and it would be all I could take, my cock’d be…so fucking hard, so swollen…fuck, fuck, I need to be inside him…” Billy’s voice was thick, panting, so rough and intense that Dom couldn’t take it any longer. Shuddering and gasping, he came in long, hot contractions, sensation buffeting him, engulfing him, as his cum hit the wall in front of him and coated his fingers. He stayed on his feet by force of will, fighting the need to drop to his weakened knees.

Just inside the door, Billy'd caught his breath and was talking again. “I’d press inside slowly, as slowly as I could, feeling him so fucking tight around me, _seeing_ my cock push inside that gorgeous arse…jesus, Vig, I can’t even…fuck, I can see it, feel it, hear the noises he’d make, the way he’d beg and buck against me, trying to take me in deeper until I’d have to…I’d have to just thrust in as deep as I could, bury my cock in him, reach around and grab him, jerk him, stroke him as I fucked him so hard and deep that…that…” Billy gasped and moaned, his breath coming in ragged pants.

“Billy,” Viggo’s voice interrupted, strangely calm, and Dom, still catching his own breath as he leaned, boneless, against the wall, heard the quiet hiss of a zipper being tugged back up.

“Yeah, Vig?” Billy’s voice was breathy, needy, and Dom shuddered with sudden aftershocks, and the fierce desire to fulfill all of Billy’s needs that he possibly could.

“You really want Dom that badly?”

“What the fuck do you think?” Billy’s tone was that of someone denied something he wants very, very badly. “After everything I’ve told you, and that’s just the tip of the fucking iceberg…fuck, the things I want to do to him…”

“Then I think you should say something to him.” Viggo paused. “Wouldn’t you agree, Dom?”

Dom’s mouth fell open, even as his legs stumbled forward the last few steps to the door, almost without his permission. How Viggo knew he was there was beyond him, but it was too late to run. Belatedly, he dragged his dripping hand from his jeans, feeling absurdly guilty as he raised his eyes to Billy’s, finding his mate staring, shocked…and hungry, his hand wrapped around his thick, flushed erection. His eyes darkened, and his hand tightened around his cock. Dom swallowed, never taking his eyes off his mate, and nodded.

And watched the most perfect mouth he’d ever seen curl into a satisfied grin.


End file.
